18 SELECT POETRY

THE SPIDER.

Tux treacherous Spider, when her nets are spread,

Deep ambushed! in her silent den does lie,

And feels, far off, the trembling of her thread,

Whose filmy cord should bind the struggling Fly;

Then, if at last she find him fast beset,

She issues forth, and runs along her loom,*

Eager to seize the captive in her net,

And drag the little wretch in triumph home,
Dryden

THE CONTENTED BLIND BOY.

Ox! say, what is that thing called light,
_ Which I must ne’er enjoy ?

What are the blessings of the sight ?

:» Oh! tell a poor Blind Boy !

You talk of wondrous things you see ;
' *¥ou say the sun shines bright;

} feel him warm, but how can he

* Or make it day or night ?

"My day or night myself I make
Whene’er I sleep or play;
And could I-always keep awake,

With me ‘twere? always day.

1 Ambushed—concealed, with a view tosurprise an enemy,

‘ Loom—a weaver’s frame—here, the frame of the spider's

web. :
"3 Fpbre—ft were—it would be